‘Have you told your parents about it?’ asked Debbie.
‘No. They’ve never bothered much about what I get up to. Mam’s always busy with the younger ones, and Dad’s off to the pub or his darts’ match. It was nice seeing ’em both again, and the kids, and they seemed pleased to see me. I caught up with an old school friend – a girlfriend, I mean. We went out for a drink; well, a lot more than one as it turned out. I spent Saturday night at her place. I don’t think Mam and Dad even missed me. So, here we are again. I wonder what the next half term’ll hold for us? An’ I’ve forgotten to ask you, Debbie – selfish cow that I am! – did you have a good weekend?’
‘Lovely, thanks,’ replied Debbie. ‘It was good to see the kiddies again, and Fiona and Simon. I’m concerned about Fiona, though. She’s still tired and not coping all that well.’ She didn’t intend to elaborate on the situation.
‘I’m not surprised, with triplets,’ said Karen. ‘Rather her than me! I ’spect you’ll be seeing Graham again soon, won’t you? Lucky you! He seems a nice bloke; quite a catch, I should think, eh?’
Debbie smiled. ‘I’m not sure. I can’t quite make him out, to be honest. He’s invited me round to his flat, but we haven’t fixed a date yet. I dare say he’ll be in touch soon.’ She thought to herself that perhaps she should take heed of Karen’s situation. It would be better not to have high hopes of Graham and his intentions. Maybe he just liked having her as a friend. Only time would tell …
Fran was the next one to arrive back, mid-afternoon. She looked her usual elegant self as she came through the door, not at all travel-stained or weary. She was not one for duffel coats or anoraks. Her bright red trouser suit was the height of fashion, with its hip-length jacket and flared trousers. With it she wore a baker’s boy style cap in herringbone tweed and brown suede boots. She put down her brown leather holdall and smiled at them.
‘Hello, girls. It’s good to be back. I never thought I’d say that, but it is.’
‘That’s what we said as well,’ agreed Debbie. ‘Has Ralph brought you back?’
‘No,’ Fran answered, rather curtly. ‘I came on the train, and took a taxi from the station.’ She shrugged her shoulders in a casual manner. ‘It’s all over with Ralph and I,’ she said. Debbie and Karen couldn’t help but exchange a smile.
Fran gave them haughty a glance. ‘Have I said something amusing?’
‘No … sorry,’ muttered Debbie, feeling somewhat abashed.
‘Join the club!’ retorted Karen. ‘It’s all over with Charlie and me an’ all; not that it was ever on, really. I’ve just been saying to Debbie what a bloody fool I’ve been! Sorry; we weren’t laughing at you, Fran, honest!’
‘Oh, I see,’ said Fran, sitting down in the armchair and crossing her long legs with a languid air. ‘Actually, it’s not been going well for quite some time. It was a mutual decision, and I’ve given him his ring back.’ She glanced down at her slender tapering fingers. She was still wearing a ring, a large dress ring of three garnets, on her middle finger. ‘I shan’t be losing any sleep over it, I can assure you.’
Debbie knew that Fran, like Karen, had had a position lined up for her on leaving college, as a designer in Ralph’s firm of landscape gardeners. She was not the sort of person, though, that you could quiz about her future plans. It would be better to leave it until she volunteered any information herself.
‘I’m ready for a cup of tea,’ Fran remarked now. ‘I had a sandwich on the journey that Mum had made for me, and I was brave enough to try a cup of British Rail tea; but it was like dish water! What about you two? Shall I make you one?’
They were both agreeing to the suggestion when the fourth member of the quartet arrived back. Lisa looked troubled as she came through the door. They thought her father would be following closely behind her. He seldom seemed to let her out of his sight, and carried her bags for her.
‘Hi, Lisa,’ said Karen cheerily. ‘Come and join the happy gang; we’re all here now. Where’s your dad?’
‘He’s not with me,’ replied Lisa, looking very close to tears. ‘I came back on the train and I’ve just come in a taxi from the station.’
‘The taxi firms are doing well out of us today,’ Karen remarked. ‘Is your dad working?’
‘No … Well, he is working actually,’ said Lisa. ‘But we’ve had words and he said I had to find my own way back. Mum was cross with him; she said he should take me, but he can be real obstinate when he’s that way. Mum tried to talk him round, to persuade him to bring me back at least … but they’re both very upset, you see.’ She gave a loud sniff and took out her handkerchief, but she was unable to stop the tears from starting to flow. She dabbed ineffectually at her eyes.
Karen was the one who dashed over and put an arm round her. ‘You have a damn good cry if you want to,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about us. I’ve just had a weep meself, haven’t I, Debbie? Come and sit down; we’re all going to have a cup of tea.’
Lisa gave a feeble smile. ‘Sorry,’ she said, shrugging off her coat and sitting down on the settee.
‘I’ll go and see to the tea,’ said Fran quietly. The other two sat down, one on either side of Lisa.
‘Do you want to tell us what’s the matter?’ said Debbie, taking hold of her hand. ‘Or … can we guess?’
‘I expect you can,’ replied Lisa. ‘Yes … I plucked up courage and I told them – only last night – about Neil. I said that I’d met this nice young man – I stressed that he was a really nice lad – and that I’d started going out with him. Well, I knew they were a bit taken aback, even at that. Mum looked so worried, as though … well, you know … as though I was about to tell them I was pregnant, or getting married! Anyway, I decided I’d better tell them the truth. But when I said he was a Catholic my dad nearly hit the roof! He went on and on about them being infidels and papists. I’d heard it all before of course. He’s so bigoted about anybody who’s not a Methodist; well, not a nonconformist, I should say. I’ve never argued with him before, even though I didn’t agree with him. But this time I was really annoyed. I answered him back, the first time I’ve ever dared to!’
‘Good for you!’ said Karen. ‘Let’s hope it’ll do him good.’
‘He told me I was an ungrateful girl, and he didn’t want any more to do with me until I saw the error of my ways. And then Mum started crying …’
‘Oh dear!’ Debbie felt really concerned for her friend. ‘Your dad seemed so nice when we met him.’
‘He can be, when everything’s going his way,’ said Lisa. ‘I’m realizing, now, what Mum has had to put up with. His word is law in our house. Anyway, he stormed off to work this morning without speaking to me. Mum went with me to the station; we got a taxi, then she saw me on to the train.’
‘So at least you’ve made it up with her, have you?’ asked Debbie.
‘I’m not sure,’ answered Lisa. ‘I suppose she thinks I’ll change my mind about Neil, for my dad’s sake. But I shan’t! I told Mum that if she met Neil she’d like him. But she just shook her head, all sorrowful like, as though it was the end of the world.’
‘Religion can cause such trouble,’ said Fran, who had heard the last of the conversation as she came back with the mugs of tea. ‘That’s why I have very little to do with it. Come on now; let’s drink our tea. Things are never as black as they seem.’
‘I must say we’re a lot of weary Willies, aren’t we?’ observed Karen. ‘What with me and Charlie, Fran and Ralph, and now Lisa and her dad. There’s only Debbie who hasn’t got any man problems! I’ve got an idea, girls! Why don’t we go out for a meal tonight to cheer ourselves up? I don’t suppose any of us feel like cooking, do we?’ They all agreed that they didn’t.
‘What about the Red Lion then?’ suggested Debbie. ‘We know they serve good meals, and they’re not too expensive. And we can drown our sorrows as well. You three can anyway, and I’ll join you!’
They all agreed that it was a great idea.
Nine
>
The Red Lion was quieter than they had ever seen it when they went in just before seven o’clock. They were all ravenous after their makeshift lunches and, in Lisa’s case, hardly anything at all. She had been too upset by the family crisis to eat.
The menu was what might be called cheap and cheerful, but well cooked and the portions were a satisfying size. Debbie, Karen and Lisa decided on scampi and chips, but Fran, always the one to be different, chose a vegetarian lasagne. With the meal they polished off their first bottle of wine, a Chardonnay which was a little dry for Debbie’s taste; but as Fran had said it was her treat and she had chosen it the rest of them didn’t argue. They took their time with the meal, then decided to push the boat out and have a pudding; lemon meringue pie for all of them with fresh cream poured over it.
When they returned to the bar lounge and found a table in a corner, Fran and Karen seemed to have put their troubles behind them and were enjoying a good old laugh together. Debbie always thought that those two were chalk and cheese, but they appeared to get along together surprisingly well. They shared a room, of course, as did she and Lisa, so it was important that they should learn to live amicably with one another.
‘Are you feeling better now?’ asked Debbie, as she and Lisa sat together on the bench seat with their backs to the wall.
‘Yes, a bit better, thanks,’ said Lisa. Debbie felt that she understood Lisa’s problems more than the other two would. As an only child, Debbie, also, had been brought up by parents who had no one else to think about. Because of that she had, on the one hand, been overprotected and indulged; on the other hand they had kept her on a tight rein, watching her every move. In Debbie’s case, her mother more so than her father. They had been more lenient as she reached her late teens, not wanting an out and out rebellion on their hands, because Debbie had kicked against the restraints on occasions. She guessed that Lisa had never done so until now. In her case it was obviously her father who ruled the roost in that household and who would brook no arguments.
‘My dad’s word is law,’ she said now. ‘I’ve not crossed him before, though I’ve often felt like it. Funnily enough, it was Dad who persuaded me to come on this course.’
‘Yes, so it was,’ said Debbie. ‘I remember you saying that he thought it would do you good to mix with other people.’
‘Yes, and now I have done it’s wrong! They have to be people that he approves of. He would like Neil, though, if he met him, wouldn’t he, Debbie? How could anybody not like him? And he can’t help being a Catholic. It’s the way he’s been brought up, same as I’ve been told I have to be a Methodist … like it or not!’ she added, with more than a touch of resentment.
‘Yes, I think that Neil’s a very pleasant young man,’ agreed Debbie, ‘and I can see why you like him so much.’ She felt that he might be rather quiet for her liking and – possibly … a little boring? But he and Lisa seemed well suited.
She could see as the next half hour went by that Lisa’s eyes kept straying to the door. She was no doubt hoping that Neil might appear, although she hadn’t said that she would be meeting him. Sure enough, at about half past eight the three young men from the downstairs flat came in. They made a beeline for the girls in the corner, who budged up to make room for them. Debbie moved to let Neil sit next to Lisa. The two of them smiled shyly at one another.
‘I’ll get the drinks in,’ said Alistair. ‘The usual, pints all round, is it, lads? And what about you girls? Can I get you anything?’
‘I’m OK thanks,’ said Lisa, putting her hand guardedly round her glass of shandy. That was unusual to start with, as she normally drank orange juice. Debbie guessed that she was being rebellious that evening.
‘I’m OK too, thanks all the same,’ said Debbie. ‘Maybe later.’
Fran and Karen both said that they would like a drink. ‘Gin and It for me, please, Alistair,’ said Fran.
‘An’ I’ll have the same, please,’ said Karen. ‘I’ll go all posh tonight, eh? I feel like a change.’ She usually drank beer or lager, like the lads.
Debbie was aware that Karen was the one who was ‘knocking it back’ rather too much that night. But who was she to be a spoilsport and tell her she had had enough? She knew that she, too, was drinking more than she had used to do at home. Sixth formers could not afford very much, and she had not wanted to go home smelling of drink. She was slightly more affluent, now, thanks to her grant and a small allowance from her parents, but she tried to keep it to a reasonable limit.
She had been very green about such matters when she first came to Leeds, but she was getting more used to the terms they used now. She knew that ‘gin and It’, Fran’s favourite drink, was made up of gin and Italian vermouth, hence the ‘It’. Whisky and ‘dry’ referred to the dry ginger; Bacardi was a sort of white rum – holidaymakers brought it back from Spain – which was drunk with Coca-Cola. And a snowball was that nice yellow advocaat with lemonade. Debbie thought it was a very pleasant drink. It reminded her, rather, of a milkshake, but with more kick with it. She thought she might have one later.
‘I’ll come and help you carry them, Alistair,’ Fran called, getting up and going over to the bar.
It became clear as the evening went on that Fran had decided to concentrate her attention on Alistair. The two of them, and Debbie as well, were in the same study group for design, and were all involved, too, in the project work on a Saturday morning, designing and constructing a landscaped garden. Alistair had never paid particular attention to Fran, but it seemed now that she was determined that he should do so. Whether she was really interested in him – or he in her – only time would tell. Maybe she was just on the rebound from her broken engagement, and he happened to be there. At all events, they appeared to be getting on well, chatting and laughing with their heads close together.
Debbie was content to be an onlooker and watch the proceedings. When she had first met him, Alistair had set her heart fluttering – just a little – but she had got over that since her friendship with Graham had got under way. She hoped he would get in touch with her soon.
She couldn’t hear what Lisa and Neil were saying. She had purposely moved away a little so that she could not eavesdrop. The general noise all around as the lounge filled up made it difficult to hear anyway. They were deep in conversation, though, with Neil’s arm around Lisa’s shoulders.
They were an interesting trio: Alistair, Neil and Ben. Totally different in appearance, and probably in personality as well, but they seemed to get along fine together, as did the girls. Alistair was the handsome one, and the one who always had the most to say. Neil was a pleasant young man, much quieter and more serious. His glasses gave him a studious air, but he had a nice smile which Lisa, more than anyone, managed to evoke. Ben was something of an enigma. He was tall and thin-featured, good-looking in a gaunt sort of way, and he wore his dark hair much longer than that of his friends. Hair was generally worn longer now by a lot of men, young and older. Ben’s was shoulder length, sometimes tied back in a pony tail but tonight it was loose. He was friendly and easy to talk to, but Debbie felt it was difficult to get to the core of him, to find out what ‘made him tick’.
It seemed, however, that Karen was trying hard to do so now. Maybe she thought it was worth a try; what had she to lose? Debbie feared she was hurting a lot about Charlie although she was putting on a brave face and pretending that she didn’t care. Fran got up and went to the ladies’ room, and Alistair took the opportunity to move closer to Debbie.
‘You’re quiet tonight,’ he said. ‘Are you OK? Nothing worrying you?’
‘No, not at all,’ she answered. ‘I’m just sitting here and enjoying the company, even though I’m not saying much. I’m just taking in the whole ambience of the surroundings.’
‘My goodness! Listen to you … ambience!’ he teased. ‘That’s a posh word!’
She laughed. ‘D’you think I don’t know any grown-up words? I got a grade A in English Language! You know what I mean. It’s al
ways nice and friendly in here. Congenial company, good atmosphere … I was thinking how lucky we’ve been, the four of us in our flat, to get on so well together.’
‘It’s the same with the three of us,’ Alistair agreed. ‘We’ve all settled down well together, strangely enough.’
‘Why is it strange?’
‘Well, we’re all so different. But it seems to work. I’m afraid Neil and I tend to leave most of the domestic chores to Ben. He cooks and tidies up after us and I must admit we let him. Lazy blighters, aren’t we?’
‘I suppose it’s OK if he doesn’t mind,’ said Debbie. ‘We try to share out the jobs, and take it in turn to cook. Fran and Karen are the best in the kitchen.’ She gave a nod in Karen’s direction. ‘She’s from a large family and she’s had to do her share.’ At the other side of the table Karen was deep in conversation with Ben.
‘And the fair Francesca cooks as well, does she?’ commented Alistair. ‘Surprise, surprise, eh? I’m discovering she’s a girl of many talents.’
As you seem to be finding out tonight, Debbie thought but did not say. ‘Aren’t we all,’ she said, ‘in our different ways? Karen and Ben seem to be getting on well, don’t they?’ she added in a low voice. They were not listening, though, seemingly engrossed in each other, although it was difficult to hear anyone’s conversation except for one’s own.
Alistair laughed. ‘It won’t do her much good, I’m afraid.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Debbie.
‘Well, Ben bats for the other side, doesn’t he?’ Alistair gave a meaningful smile, but it didn’t convey much to Debbie.
‘Oh … you mean he plays cricket?’ said Debbie. ‘I didn’t know.’ And why should it matter? she wondered.
Alistair threw back his head and laughed, so much so that the rest of the crowd stared at him for a moment, then looked away. ‘Oh, Debbie, you’re priceless!’ he said. ‘What a naive little girl you are!’
Debbie was annoyed, and her face showed it. She didn’t like being laughed at, and she didn’t like being called a little girl. Fran came back at that moment and sat down on the other side of Alistair.
Old Friends, New Friends Page 11
